


Side Jobs Are Never That Easy

by agdhani



Category: Transporter: The Series
Genre: Gen, Thursday Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3321665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agdhani/pseuds/agdhani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is talked into helping out a friend of Jules.  Things never go as he plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Side Jobs Are Never That Easy

“No…”

“Please, Frank,” Jules begged, coming around the car where Frank was adjusting items within the trunk. The standard roadside repair tools and extra suits. Always extra; Frank refused to meet clients in anything less than an immaculate state if he could avoid doing so. The transporter had an image to uphold, even if it was an image within his mind. “Ray’s got to be in Chicago by noon tomorrow…”

“He can take a plane…” Frank tossed his coffee-stained tie over the trunk hood and began to unbutton his shirt.

“He’s afraid of flying…”

“The train…or bus…”

“Even taking the next ones out, he’d never make it on time…their schedules won’t…”

His dirty shirt joined his tie and Frank began to open the protective plastic cover put on the fresh one by the dry cleaners. “What is so important about noon…?”

“If he’s not there by noon, he’ll lose his lease…it’s taken him years to get this place and…”

“Then maybe he should have planned his itinerary better…”

“It’s not his fault his truck threw the timing belt!” exclaimed Jules.

“If he can drive he can rent…”

Jules shuffled his feet. “Technically…no,” he mumbled. “He was driving without insurance…on an expired license. Look…please, Frank…I’ll pay your fee…or you can dock my pay. Whatever you want…just please take him.”

Buttoning up his clean shirt, Frank asked “Why don’t you take him?”

“You’d let me take your car?”

“No…” was the smirking reply. “But you could rent…”

Feeling more desperate, Jules exclaimed, “I can’t drive like you! We’d get stuck in traffic…in construction…spend too long at a roadside diner…we’d never make it.”

His shirt now tucked in and his jacket pulled back into place, Frank checked his watch. By his calculations, it would be a nine hour drive to Chicago…and if they left now, he would have four hours to spare. Normally he preferred exact, punctual times, but as he did not know where this Ray was located, or how much baggage he might be carrying with him, it would be best to give himself extra time. Particularly since he had not yet refueled nor had a decent meal since breakfast.

“Alright…I’ll take him…but you owe me,” he scowled. “Give me his address and tell him to be ready in one hour…”

“He’s already here.” Jules smiled with embarrassment and gestured towards the coffee room door. “I brought him here when his car broke down…he’s got nowhere else to go…”

Barely resisting rolling his eyes, realizing his hoped for meal would now have to wait, Frank said, “Load up. I’m grabbing something to eat…and some coffee; he’d better be ready by the time I return or the deal’s off.”

Jules grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Thank you…thank you, Frank. We’ll load up right now.”

One breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee later, Frank returned to his car, a follow-up coffee in hand, to find the trunk closed and the entire backseat of his car crammed with battered suitcases, cardboard boxes falling apart at the seams, and Tupperware containers stuffed with odds and ends. He was about to protest the load that threatened to spill into the front seats but decided against. Thanks to Jules, the back window was left clear for visibility and everything was bundled and secured so that nothing was likely to fly forward or sideways and cause an accident. Frank was going to have to rethink his fuel stops, mileage, and speed, but they were calculations easily made. It was a good thing, however, they had extra time to spare.

“You must be Frank.” He flicked his cigarette to the floor without bothering to grind it out beneath his shoe. The fellow, near Jules’ age, Frank imagined, had been leaning against the car, cigarette between his lips, one booted foot propped against the shiny black door pane, but when Jules elbowed him when Frank first arrived, but it wasn’t until he came forward, after discarding the cigarette and offering Frank his hand, that Ray’s foot left the car. Franks frown, aimed more at Jules then at Ray, had disappeared by the time the two shook hands.

“And you must be Ray.” He was tall and gangly, with shaggy dark hair and thin rimmed glasses. He moved like a man an athlete, but his hands suggested softer work. Another computer jockey, he imagined, or a science type…who might just fancy running on the side…and probably attracted his share of women. Trying to determine what the handsome fellow shared in common with Jules, how the two knew each other, was giving Frank a headache he did not need. “Shall we?”

“I’ve programmed his address into the GPS to calculate your route,” Jules hastily, cutting off whatever reply Ray had intended to make. “Thanks, Frank…I appreciate this. I would have come along…but there isn’t any room left…”

“I can see that.” Keys in hand, Frank opened the driver’s side door. “I’m leaving now. Get in and buckle up.”

He saw the two men shake hands and share the embrace of friendship before Ray hurried to the other side of the car. As he did so, Jules bent to pick up the discarded cigarette and wipe the footprint from the car door with the sleeve of his jacket. The attention to that detail made Frank smirk. Another wave between Ray and Jules and the black sedan pulled out onto the street, pointed towards the destination Jules had given him.  
“Thanks for doing this,” Ray said, tugging uncomfortably at the seatbelt with one hand while pulling a package of cigarettes from his pocket with the other. Frank heard the click and the crinkle at the same moment.

“Seatbelt on at all times…or I stop wherever we happen to be. And no smoking in the car.”

Ray frowned and twirled the cigarette between his fingers. “We’re gonna take breaks then…right? I need my smokes…”

“You can smoke when we fuel up.” He didn’t approve of the habit but was not going to lecture his passenger. So long as Ray respected his rules in the car, they wouldn’t have a problem. “And,” he scolded as Ray’s hand reached for the buttons on the console, “no touching the radio.”  
“No tunes?” That sounded suspiciously like a whine to Frank, but Ray continued. “What am I supposed to do for nine hours?”

“Sleep,” Frank grunted. The advantage of an overnight trip was that he would not have to make small talk, and if Ray was sleeping, he would be less bothered by being unable to smoke in the car. Since something about the other man was rubbing Frank the wrong way, it would be better for both of them if Ray took advantage of the silence and slept.

“Fine.” Like a petulant teen rather than a grown man, Ray shoved the cigarette pack back into his pocket, crossed his arms over his chest with a pout, and stared through the window at the gradually retreating city streets that gave way to darkening country skyline. He took out his cell phone a short time later, frowned at it, and then asked, “I suppose I’m not allowed to make calls in your car,” he emphasized the two words, “either?”  
Lips twisting with the humor he was forced to find in the situation in order to maintain a professionally calm demeanor, Frank shrugged. “Make your call.” If it lightened the air in the car, a phone call wasn’t going to hurt anything.

He paid no attention to the conversation, an exchange of where he was, when he was due to arrive, pleasantries and casual talk that was none of Frank’s business. After the phone was put away and Ray relaxed, his eyes closed as his head lolled against the window, the drive was blissfully silent, mile after mile passing beneath his tires without a care. It was a long, rarely winding stretch of pavement through farmland and occasional towns beginning to roll up their awnings for the night, cars passing or being passed, nothing unusual in their movements. A nice, leisurely drive.  
Frank was less irritated by this assignment then he had been when Jules had thrust it upon him.

The need for fuel forced him into a truck stop earlier then he would have liked, but he had not refueled before leaving as he should have, so it was a necessary detour. As soon as the wheels stopped moving and the engine shut off, Ray’s head popped up, his eyes wide opened.

Frank doubted then he had been asleep at all.

“Gonna have a smoke and a piss,” he yapped, rolling out of the car and hurrying away from the fuel pumps with the pack already in hand. “Don’t you dare leave without me.”

Like I would, Frank thought, eyeing the collection in his back seat. Not only would he never hear the end of it from Jules if he let Ray here, he would be stuck with the man’s belongings, and even if he entertained the idea of leaving it all here as well, he would never get it unloaded before Ray returned.

Other vehicles drove in and out of the truck stop, other people headed into the store or around the side of the building where the restrooms were located. Although Frank was aware of them, keeping their proximity and movements always in mind, nothing struck him as unusual. Given the nature of this job, he saw no reason why it should…until fifteen minutes later, when Ray ran from around the corner of the building, disheveled and out of breath as he looked around frantically for Frank and the car. When he spotted it now parked in front of the store, he tossed the half burned cigarette to the ground and climbed inside, where Frank made note of his raw, bloody knuckles and the bloody scrapes on the side of his face.

He frowned. “What happened to you?”

“Slippery floor…head and fist met cement wall,” Ray quipped through labored gasps for breath. He looked around them nervously and when he realized Frank had not yet started the car, he buckled the seatbelt. “What’d you move the car for…?”

“Other people have to refuel too. You took your time…”

“Enjoying the cigarette…last meal of the condemned, you know.” He glanced at Frank as if expecting him to say something and added, “It’ll be hours before we stop again, I presume…”

Frank nodded. “It will.” He did not press for a further explanation. Whatever Ray had been doing in the bathroom that had earned him a pair of fight trophies was none of Frank’s business…so long as there were no illegal substances involved. If he found out there were, Ray was going to be out on the roadside, promise to Jules or not.

Or maybe it was his business, he thought with a scowl as a white sedan sped out of the lot after them. When Frank sped up, so did the other car. When he changed lanes to pass a slower moving vehicle, the other did likewise. Years of instinct suggested the other driver meant business, business with Ray no doubt. Watching the car in the rearview mirror as he sped up more and dodged between two tractor trailer rigs drew Ray’s attention. He turned in his seat to look for whatever Frank saw; his eyes and mouth widened in panic.

“Fuck it…” The car swerved and Ray grabbed tight to the door handle and the dashboard.

Frank scowled. “You know them?”

“No…I mean…maybe…”

“Those weren’t made by the wall, were they?” Frank’s gaze indicated Ray’s knuckles, leaving the road only briefly.

“Watch the road!”

Frank ignored the exclamation, use to such sentiments from passengers whenever his skills were put to the test by some danger or other. “Well?”  
“Okay…no…some guy came at me. I hit him back and he went down…and I got the hell out of there.”

The white car was trying to close on them. “What did he want? Men like that don’t usually go after someone for no reason.”

“How the hell would I know? He didn’t say anything and I didn’t ask.” Knuckles turning white as he gripped harder, Ray exclaimed, “They’re getting closer!”

“They?”

But Ray had no remark to make this time; he said not a word, only uttered a string of unintelligible syllables with each swerve Frank pulled their car through. He watched the pile in the back seat, or out the window behind them, so that he did not have to watch the road ahead of them in horror. When he did chance a glance to the front, there came a loud crack, like lightening, and the jerk of Frank’s car to the right forced the white vehicle off of the road, into the metal guardrail at a high enough speed to force him into an abrupt stop. Frank did not bother to slow down until there were several miles, and many minutes, between them.

“People don’t shoot others without a reason either…” Frank finally began as his nerves settled.

“Shoot? That was a gunshot?”

“You didn’t bring drugs into my car, did you?”

Ray lifted his hands as if in surrender. “No drugs, I swear. Don’t have the money for that shit.” Seeing Frank’s dubious expression, he repeated. “I swear, Frank. No drugs! I don’t know what they want…but it’s not that!”

Frank grunted. He believed Ray about the drugs, but he also believed Ray knew more than he was admitting to. For the moment, at least, their pursuer was no longer a threat, and unless, until, they picked up more tails along the way, they were safe for now.

“Jules was right…you drive like a demon! Never seen anyone with moves like that…not even in all the simulations I’ve run online. That’s some sick moves you’ve got. You’ll get me home in one piece.”

Thinking he was going to have to have a talk with Jules when he got back about whatever details Jules had forgotten to mention to him. At least, when he failed to reply, Ray took the hint and stopped talking, although it was nearly an hour later before he was able to sleep again and Frank could let his own guard down.

Hours later, Ray shifted in his seat to face Frank, arms wrapped about himself, and cracked his eyes open with a sour expression. “Can’t you turn the heat up? We’re gonna freeze to death in here.”

“It isn’t…” But Frank chose to turn the heat up rather than listen to the man’s complaining. Unfortunately, it did not have the effect he hoped it would, for no sooner was it done when Ray started again.

“I need to piss…”

“It’s only been…”

“I didn’t exactly get to go last time…and I’m thirsty…and my legs are all cramped. Come on, man…fifteen minutes. We made good time back there…fifteen minutes isn’t going to kill us…we’ve got plenty of time. Please? Come on…ten minutes then…?”

After a growl and several miles of silence, they came upon a rest area. It wasn’t Frank’s preferred choice of stops, as so many of these places were dirty and either crowded or deserted. This one wasn’t even well lit, but there was a vending machine which, provided it worked, would get Ray a drink and silence him on that matter at least. With a travel trailer, three semis, a motorcycle with its rider trying to read a map in the dim glow of a flashlight, and a yellow van with its hood open and a young man and woman tinkering with the engine, there were plenty of others to keep his eye on, so this time Frank got out of the car with Ray and locked the door behind them.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Ray groused.

“My job is to deliver you safely…I’m going to make sure you don’t fight any more walls.”

He peered inside the empty restroom, listened for anyone who might be there, and then motioned Ray in. “Be quick about it.”

“Not with you watching it won’t be.”

“I’m not watching.” That was the last thing Frank wanted to do.

The crinkle of the cigarette package and flick of the lighter filled the room with wafts of smoke and were quickly followed by the sound of fluid in the bowl. When Ray started past him without stopping at the sink, Frank scowled; Ray rolled his eyes and washed his hands with his cigarette dangling between his lips. Soon he pushed through the doorway, his dripping hands leaving droplets upon Frank’s shoes, and charged to the vending machine, which soon yielded up a Red Bull that Frank could imagine spilled all over his upholstery.

“We’re not leaving until you finish that…both of them,” Frank indicated the can and the cigarette with the route of his gaze.

“Suites me,” Ray said with a shrug. “I told you…I need the stretch.”

“Don’t take too long.”

The approach of the young couple with the van took Frank’s attention away before he could see the fuck off gesture Ray shot at him. “Do you have a cell phone? Ours is dead…” the young man started.

“And we’re gonna need a tow,” his girlfriend shot with a bitter tone.

The sandy-haired boy shrugged sheepishly. “Unless you know anything about engines?”

They looked harmless enough. “I might…let me take a look.” To Ray he said, “Stay with the car. Don’t go wandering off.”

“Pop the trunk, will ya? I need to get something.”

A fair compromise, Frank decided, and he might need to get to his tools if the van needed simple repairs. The remote on the key beeped twice and the trunk popped open, then he followed the two to where their van was parked a few slots away beneath the only lamplight the rest area had to offer.

“What’s it doing?”

The young man explained as best he could the problems they were experiencing, and Frank listened as he kept one eye on Ray at the back of his car, now moving his belongings around in search of something that Frank hoped was important. If it wasn’t, they were going to lose a lot of time to repacking.

The repair turned out to be the removal of the stuck temperature gauge. A simple job, but one which, in addition to the woman’s bitter complaining, took his attention off of Ray long enough to regret his doing so. “You’ll run okay without this…long enough to get you to civilization and a garage where you can get it replaced.”

“Thank you,” the younger man said with relief as the girl, her arms crossed, snorted, “yes…thank you…now maybe we can get to my sister’s wedding on time!”

An apology about to be made for her attitude was cut short by a yelp and the slamming closed of the trunk. The motorcyclist was pulling back for another punch when Frank saw him and a well-aimed throw of the wrench Frank held caught the man’s shoulder. The punch landed, but with less force than intended, still enough, however, for Ray to drop his drink and cigarette and slump against the car and to the ground unconscious.  
The empty space between them was crossed in six long strides while the biker, his face hidden beneath his black helmet, tried to pry the trunk open. Frank grabbed the helmet with both hands and yanked, and while it did not come lose, held in place as it was with a strap beneath his chin, it was enough of a jerking jolt to make the fellow choke and splutter and reel beneath the pain to his spine and throat. He tried to turn, to swing, but the best he could do was a backwards blow that caught Frank’s arm. It was followed by an awkward side kick, which while painful and enough to cause Frank to stumble, was not enough to break his hold. He slammed the fellow’s head, helmet and all three times against the hood of his trunk, denting and scratching the sleek black finish and leaving the fellow an unconscious heap. Frank dragged him to his bike, punctured the tire with the blade he frequently carried when traveling, and then pulled Ray back into the car.

“Have a good evening,” Frank called to the young couple standing at the van, clasping hands, the anger between them now forgotten.

They stared in disbelief as he drove away.

Dawn brought the sunrise peeping over the Chicago skyline and the peace of mind that he had been able to regain after that last encountered dissipated with groan from the man beside him. It was just as well, for once they picked their way through rush hour traffic, Frank would drop Ray off, happy to be done with him, arriving far ahead of schedule. They would have to unpack the car, but that was an inconvenience only.

“Wha…happened…where are we…?” Ray groaned, tenderly feeling the side of his head with his fingers, relieved to see no blood although it hurt like a bitch.

“Almost there…another hour…two at most…if traffic is good to us…”

Ray suddenly jolted upright and half turned in his seat to look over the items in the back seat. “He didn’t get it, did he? You didn’t give it to him, did you?”

“Didn’t give him what?”

Ray’s phone blatted several trumpet notes, what might have been a pleasant bit of jazz if not for the volume of it and the abruptness with which the riff began and ended. After fumbling to retrieve it, and having to endure the head-splitting tone several more times, Ray looked at the caller ID and groaned again. “Oh gawd…not now…”

Pressing the talk button unleashed a shrieking barrage from the other end, a woman’s shrill voice speaking so fast and loud Frank could not make out what she was saying although he could hear every syllable she uttered. Ray stammered and stuttered, trying to get a few words in around her tirade, and when she refused to let him talk, he broke the connection.

When Ray did not speak except to mutter under his breath as he turned off the ringer when it immediately began again, Frank commented, “She doesn’t sound happy…”

“Ex’s never are…I never took anything of hers…not a damn thing…she can threaten me all she wants. I’m not afraid of her or her daddy’s money…” He saw the twitch of Frank’s eyebrow out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. “Look…we’ve gotta stop…I need to get into the trunk…”

“I promise you, nothing’s missing…”

“It’s not that. It’s…I have to make sure…” There were too many things that could have gone wrong in transport, especially now, and Ray was worried that all of his efforts were for nothing. “Pull over, let me look…please.”

Rolling his eyes, Frank sighed. “Since you asked nicely…” Whatever Ray intended, Frank was not going to do this on the side of the road. He took the first exit and took the first right into a grocery store parking lot, making sure to park as far from the doors and other cars as possible, far enough from the entrance of the lot that, should someone else come after them, he would have plenty of warning. He left the engine running, hoping this excursion would not take long, and popped the trunk. In the light of dawn, he could now see the damage the biker’s helmet had done and he muttered with frustration. “Make this quick.”

Ray reached at once for a plastic box with holes drilled in the sides as if for air. It’s lid was askew as if Ray had not closed it properly, or something from within had popped it open. Inside, a corner hanging over the opened edge of the box, a flannel pillow case law also open, and a length of twine that had likely held it closed now lay undone.

“Aw…fuck…” Ray tossed the box on the ground and began to unload item after item. “There’s no way out of this trunk, right? No holes something could fall through…or crawl through…” he begged.

“Not unless the panel between the trunk and the back seat were opened. Exactly what are you looking for?” It was easy to guess something living, but as he had not been told of any living cargo, he was not sure he should be angry or concerned or merely exasperated.

“Help me…we have to find her…”

“Her who?”

But just as Frank reached for the first box, Ray let out an excited whoop and carefully snatched up his quarry with both hands. The snake was bright red, except for its snout which was a dark gray blue, and a band behind it which was pale beige. No more than a foot long, Frank had never seen another snake like it, and trusted that it was not poisonous when Ray brought it up to his face, examined it closely, and then kissed the top of its scaled head.

“Thank God…I was afraid she’d been crushed…or froze to death back here…”

“Is this what she’s after? Your girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. Her father works in imports…I think has mob connections…” He hurried on upon seeing Frank’s narrowing gaze. “This is a Clelia…a Mussurana…native to Peru…prized there for eating other snakes…poisonous snakes. It’s not legal to export them…to import them…to own them without a special license. He gave it to her as a pet…”

“And you stole it.”

“I’m trying to get it to a safe home. He’ll put it on display…in a tiny glass cage…he’ll kill it!” Ray exclaimed. “I know a guy here…in Chicago. He’ll see that it’s safe. That’s why I have to be here by noon…else he’ll be gone out of the country and…”

“You won’t be able to dispose of the evidence.” He wasn’t sure it had been the brightest way of going about this, but Frank could admire the motivation. Ray opened the pillowcase, gently put the snake inside, tied it closed and put it back in the transport box.

“Best way to transport them…safest…” He looked pleadingly at Frank. “You’re not going to turn me in…turn me over to them…are you?”  
“Is that who’s been after you this whole time?”

Ray nodded. “I didn’t think they’d be able to follow me…I only told two people where I was heading…and I know Jules wouldn’t say a word to anyone…had to be Rodney…my brother…”

“Who you spoke to earlier.” Frank nodded, easily piecing the puzzle together.

“I mean…I knew he wanted her…but I didn’t think he would…I didn’t think she would…” Ray sighed. “It’s too cold out here for her…I got to get her inside.”

“Get in then.” Frank took the time to rearrange the trunk, to put everything back where it belonged so that he could close it again.

Ray cradled the box on his lap as Frank got them underway once again. He glanced at his watch, frowned, and then asked, “If my friend could meet us…can we make a detour first?”

“Detour?” Frank side-eyed him curiously.

“Lincoln Park Zoo…he’ll get her home…or at least get her a proper facility, not some tiny glass box…plus he’s got connections to take care of her…legally…”

Frank considered the request as he passed one exit, then another, and then reset the GPS with the new coordinates while Ray made his call. Getting that creature out of his car, and out of Frank’s life, was probably the wisest decision, and if it had been Ray’s, and Jules’, intention all along, then he was obligated to deliver that package out of the hands of illegal owners. Maybe Frank was lying about the animal’s origins, maybe he himself was the smuggler, but so far, Frank did not think so.

The closer he got to their first destination, the more watchful he became for pursuers. He could not know if anyone would think Ray was delivering the snake someplace other than his own living room, but he had to assume they would be followed, that there would be trouble.  
As it was before hours, they were met at the zoo’s delivery gate by an older gentleman in overalls and an open lab coat. He looked about them furtively and then waved them through the gate. Ray complied only after grabbing a satchel from the backseat, and Frank followed behind.  
“Cecil…Frank.” Ray quietly made the introduction, fearful of being overheard. There was a familial resemblance between the two, but Frank did not think they were father and son. Uncle and nephew, more likely, given the age difference. Cecil only nodded at Frank but took the plastic box from Ray and hurried them down a path, through a door marked ‘Staff Only’, and into a room that bore the furnishings of a veterinary office. It was warmer than outdoors, and the glare of the light that Cecil wheeled closer to the metal exam table made the room warmer still. Carefully he opened the box, and then the bag, and removed the red snake from within.

“Groggy from the cold…but she appears to be healthy…a fine juvenile specimen. I’ll have to keep her under observation for about a week…but she should be fine. Did you bring me the documents…”

Ray produced a tattered folder from the satchel but then shoved them back inside. “I’m gonna hold on to these for a few days…”

“Ray…I need the documents if we’re going to arrest…”

A glance at Frank and then Ray shrugged. “They’re gonna come after me again, aren’t they. This is the only leverage I’ve got to make them stop…so long as they think I can turn them in, they’ll think twice about coming after me…and it’s not like they can get her back now…”

“Perhaps I should hold on to those.” Frank held out his hand. If anyone could keep the papers, the proof of illegal activity, out of the hands of the enemy, he could…and with the help of his team, he might even be able to shut down the smuggling activity. Getting someone like Ray out of the mix was the smartest thing he could do.

Ray looked at him skeptically but then nodded and handed the satchel to Frank. “Here…keep it safe, Frank…and get me home.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Before heading out of the room, Ray leaned across the table and stroked the top of the snake’s head. “Can I come back to see how she’s doing?”  
“Of course, Raymond…come by any time.” The older man smiled and continued his examination of the little red snake.

On the return walk to the car, and the subsequent ride through Chicago rush hour traffic, Ray was quiet, his demeanor relieved, but also melancholy and, with every blare of a car horn or abrupt swerve of the car to avoid bad drivers, he cringed. When they reached the brick and glass building indicated by the GPS and the car stopped, he gripped the dashboard with both hands and stared at the door into the building.  
“We made it on time.”

“We did,” agreed Frank.

“I’ll…” he hesitated, then opened the car door. “Gonna go sign for what I paid for…I’ll be right back.”

With the satchel tucked beneath his seat, Frank got out as well to begin to unload the back seat items onto the curb. It was going to take too many trips to get it all inside; if he left it all for Ray to carry, he would be parked here all day, in a two hour tow away zone. The neighborhood looked safe enough, quiet, secluded, posh even, making him wonder how Ray could afford this but not a license and insurance…and a working car of his own. The quiet nature of the street also made the arrival of two sedans, parking on the opposite side of the street and several car lengths away, worthy of his suspicion. He stood tall, straightened his suit jacket and tie, and waited.

“Where is he?” There were five of them, big men in suits

“Who?”

“The boy…”

“I haven’t seen a boy.” It was the truth. Ray was younger than him, but he was no boy.

“He’s got something that doesn’t belong to him…and our employer wants it back…she doesn’t take kindly to thieves…”

She. That was good to know. “Tell your employer that what she wants isn’t here…”

Frank saw the swing before it connected, but allowed it to fall. Taking the first punch, and then a second from another man, gave him full permission to unleash his full force upon all of them. A head slammed against the car. Another clobbered with the metal lid of a nearby waste bin. A knee to the groin that brought another cowering and cringing to his knees. One by one they all save one went down, and by the time Ray returned with a wheeled cart onto which he could load his belongings, the fight was over and Frank was wiping blood from his nose and lip. Frank had the fifth man pinned against the side of the car with an arm twisted painfully behind his back.

Jaw dropped, Ray tried to speak, but no sound came out. “You might want to hurry up and unload…and consider a good security system for a few weeks while I sort this out.” Ray nodded and hastily stacked all of his belongings onto the cart.

“Th…thanks again…for the ride…” he stammered before jostling the cart away. Frank leaned close to his prisoners ear, aware of the attention he’d attracted here, and grunted, “I told you…he doesn’t have what you want…and if you don’t leave him alone…if you harm one hair on his body…I will come after you.”

The fellow bobbed his head twice before Frank slammed it against the car and let the fellow drop onto the pavement with his groaning companions. Behind the wheel, Frank straightened his tie, glanced in the rear view mirror, and smiled to himself.

Delivery complete, job well done. Jules he would deal with later. Now, he thought, his heel kicking the secure satchel beneath his seat, time to get down to business.


End file.
